


Madame Coriander

by Bbun



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, Intersex Character, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bbun/pseuds/Bbun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was always something different about Coriander from the moment she stepped into that barn of Smoky's.</p>
<p>(Coriander one-shot. Consider this a compensation for the lack of updates on THSC. Contains spoilers for Bramblestar's Storm, as well as some of my own interpretation. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Madame Coriander

"Coriander, it's time to go," called a black-and-white tom. His green eyes were looking at the young tortoiseshell she-cat intently, "for your new Twolegs have arrived."

Coriander looked at him back, startled. The tom, known to her as Webster, had acted like a father to her after she was taken in by the Catboxplace - their word for an animal shelter - shortly after she was found near a Thunderpath, standing near the dead bodies of her parents. Both had died of starvation, but the Twolegs managed to save young Coriander from greeting the same fate. Now Webster - a kittypet owned by one of the Twolegs here - had taken on the fraternal role shortly after Coriander came in.

~~~~

The day she had arrived on was a mild one. The sky was dotted with puffy white clouds about, but the sun was present, as always, and its rays still shone as brightly as ever, giving off that oh-so coveted warmth that every cat craved at least once in their life. Despite the weather shifting to what a wild cat might call leaf-fall, the trees still retained their primarily green hue, as did the grasses, and the shrubs, and the leaves of the flowers. Ruddy-colored nuts were already beginning their descent from the trees. A slight breeze went through the area, ruffling the leaves and the fur of any creature that happened to be passing by. A few aromatic scents still lingered in the air from springtime - or newleaf, to the damned forest cats - but they were stale, and would fade away soon, only to return when newleaf arrived again. Up above in the numerous surrounding oaks and maples were the birds, doing their usual obnoxious chattering and chirping that filled the air with sound. A sloping hill stood up among all of the trees, with flowers throughout most of its free spaces.

On top of it stood an incredibly large Twoleg nest - the Catboxplace. Well, it wasn't a nest, but it  _looked_ like one. Several little openings - what we call doors - were all over the sides of the structure. Just as many seeing holes - windows - were up above said side openings, and there was at least one Twoleg or creature able to be seen in each one. In contrast to the rest of the land around it, the Catboxplace was beige and tan, dull colors. The only interesting hues were the things that came and went through the openings. Today, the thing was a Twoleg monster, that was backing up until it met some white lines on the dark gray ground near the Catboxplace. Almost immediately afterwards, two Twolegs, dressed in blue, exited the back of the monster, and with them, they carried a white metal box with a handle and door.

Inside, a cat was stirring. She was no more than seven moons old, and she looked rather skinny for her age. Her black-and-ginger tortoiseshell pelt was dull, her long fur was starting to shed as a result of her hunger, and her amber eyes didn't seem to have their usual brightness. She appeared as if she almost met death itself.

It didn't take long before she was inside the large Catboxplace. The Twolegs carrying her went through one narrow passageway after another, and it seemed as if it would never end. This was not the case. After another narrow hall, they entered a brightly colored room, with several cats curiously looking up at the Twolegs, as well as the box. The Twolegs then crouched down, and began to murmur some words that the young cat inside couldn't understand. But before she knew it, the tortoiseshell she-cat was free from the box. The Twolegs uttered a few more odd sounds, and then they left the area with the box.

The young she-cat looked around at all of these new cats.  _Why are they staring at me like that?_ she wondered. In the group of cats, there were two black-and-white toms, a ginger she-cat, a cream tabby tom, a ginger-and-white tom, and a rather plump silver tabby cat - the cat couldn't figure out if it was a tom or a she-cat.

"Um...hi?" greeted the tortoiseshell. "My name is Coriander, but you lot can just call me Cori, if you want to."

"She's actin' cute already," muttered the cream tabby tom, in a rather distinctive accent, "but she shows prohmise." He then turned to face Coriander. "So, yer' Cori, raht? Nice to meet ya'. T' name's Parsnip. Like the rest o' 'em, I'm a kittypet sometimes brought 'ere by mah Twolegs."

"I'm Scarlet!" the young dark ginger tabby chirped happily. "Over there is my big bro' O'Hara. He eats way too much-"

"She don't need to know that? Where are your manners, Scar?" snapped the big silver tabby in the corner. Coriander could see why Scarlet teased her sibling. His rear was all square-like, and his legs were rather short and stout. His belly sagged, and his haunch slightly bulged. But that didn't stop from Coriander seeing O'Hara has beautiful. His splotchy tabby stripes were black, and his eyes were the most lovely shade of orangey-copper she had ever seen. Like some of the others, he wore a rather good-looking collar - one in the shade of orange, similar to his dark eyes.

"Is he a tom or a she-cat?" Coriander asked. "He seems to have features of both."

"For your information, your rat-loving frick," spat Scarlet, giving off a defensive stance beside her brother, "he is both a tom  _and_  a she-cat. He has parts of both, yes, but he'd rather be called a tom, any day." Her tail was down, but it was twitching rather irritably. "Anymore questions, newbie?"

"Scar, that is  _no_ way to talk to a cat like Coriander. She's barely out of kithood; try being a bit nicer to her, okay?" the ginger-and-white tabby tom said in a rather concerned tone. Awkwardly shifting his body to Coriander's direction, he added, "Oh, I'm sorry for not introducing myself properly, but my name is Ziggy. My Twolegs named me after a Twoleg who has eyes similar to mine - blue and green! How cool is that?!" Upon closer inspection, Coriander found out he was right; Ziggy sported a pair of bi-colored eyes; the left dark blue, and the right dark green. They were so similar in shades that she could barely tell them apart.

One of the black-and-white toms - the one with a short-haired pelt, made his tail raised up, but otherwise did not speak. The other one, the one with the long pelt and purple collar, spoke for him. "Oh, look at that, a newcomer. My name's Webster, and the mute one next to me is Benny. He cannot speak, as he was born mute."

"So how does he communicate with you lot?" Coriander tilted her head, confused. A cat who couldn't talk? What a shame! Suddenly the tortoiseshell she-cat felt pity for the kittypet tom.  _His life must be hard without a voice to use._

"How do you communicate while you hunt? With tail gestures, of course. His facial expressions, ear flicks, and body language are also useful for him to get around. As most cats can understand them rather easily, he doesn't have much difficulty getting around. However, he is by no means perfect," Webster explained in a rather dignified manner. "Although Benny is mute, I often see him cussing profanities just about every day, so he's not innocent in the slightest. From what movements he uses when he swears, he's incredibly rude."

Benny gave a hard, cold stare at Webster with beady orange eyes, but the other black-and-white tom said nothing for a few moments before going on.

"Anyways, since you've been introduced to everyone here already, and you've introduced yourself, I offer you to join our little group. Until you get taken by a new set of Twolegs, that is." he offered.

"What do you mean? I already got taken away two sunrises ago! Are they different Twolegs?" Coriander's tone was worried. Why would they do this to other innocent cats like her?

"To put it simply, yes. They come and go, taking cats from those metal cages and keeping them as their own kittypet. That happened to each and every one of us." he answered rather coolly. 

"But it took a long time before those flea-brained, dog-haired, tail-eating, children of dogs took in us!" Scarlet hissed. "O'Hara, would you care to explain why?"

"It's because we're different," he said in a low voice. "They don't adopt cats with scars or missing tails or eyes as easily as able-bodied, normal cats."

Benny was making what appeared to be several silent curses with his mouth, his fur bristling. Ziggy flattened his ears in subtle anger, muttering more audible curses than Benny.

"But since ya' seem t' be like one o' us , ah wouldn't mind if ya' came t' this group," Parsnip said cheerfully. "We c' always use more cats o' t' likes o' you."

"So, what do you say?" Webster inquired to Coriander. "Are you going to join us?"

Coriander thought long and hard before she decided. On one had, she only just met these kittypet misfits, and they seemed awfully rude compared to the few other cats she had met in her seven moons of living. But they seemed to share problems like her, and it was clear that they were rather lonely because of how they were treated due to their problems. Eventually Coriander came to a conclusion.

"Of course," she finally replied, blinking her amber eyes, "as long as you lot try being a bit nicer."

"Sounds like a deal to me," Webster grumbled. He then announced to the group behind him, "Looks like we have ourselves a new member! Meet Coriander!"

"Coriander! Coriander!" chanted the other kittypets with pride, and in that moment, Coriander knew this is where she belonged.

"Are you going to be my dad now?" Coriander inquired, looking up at the elder tom with pleading eyes.

The black-and-white kittypet gave in easily. "Sure, if you want. I can start teaching you fighting skills in just a moment - you'll need them in the future...."

~~~~

But it had been many moons since that day. Too many moons to count. Now Coriander was a full-grown cat, more plumper and healthier than before, and she was finally being taken away by some Twolegs.

The tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat sadly looked at the entrance to the passageway where the Twolegs had brought her from, knowing that she would have to leave her group of her friends for good. She knew that Webster was right - she  _had_ to go - but at the same time, she couldn't just part with the band of misfits so easily.

She turned around again, and looked longingly into the eyes of each and every single one of them - Ziggy, Scarlet, O'Hara, Parsnip, and Webster - before she said another word. "I'm going to miss you all," she whispered softly. "I won't forget any of you."

"I hope your new Twolegs are nice to you," Ziggy commented. "Mine are terrible to me and Riga. Like, yesterday, he got this  _really big_ scratch on his flank, and-"

"You're one of the best cats I've ever met, Cori," Scarlet cut off the ginger-and-white tom, looking at her miserably. "I think without you and the others, I wouldn't be able to make it through in life."

"Same here," O'Hara agreed. "You've got the spunk I needed in my life. You even helped cheer me up when I was down from all of those insults the other kittypets, like Victor and Brandy, give me."

"If only Benny were here to say something. Except that he can't, and his Twolegs aren't bringing him here anymore." Webster sighed.

"Happy trails!" Parsnip purred, twitching his pale cream tabby tail. "You'll need it."

Webster lifted his head up, and his eyes widened. "They're here already," he muttered. The black-and-white tom then turned to Coriander. "It's time. I'm so sorry."

"No!" Coriander tried racing back to the group, but it was too late. The Twolegs - this time dressed in black - picked her up, and she flailed about in their giant, furless paws. They then shoved her in the cage, tail facing the door, and she could only wail in misery as she was carried off from the room. She heard the group of five wail back to her, but this made her only wail more.  _I won't be happy again! My life is ruined! I'll never see Webster or his friends again!_ No longer would she be in Catboxplace, but in another location entirely. Somewhere far away from there. 

~~~~

It was now sunset, and everything was in mid leaf-bare. No longer were the birds able to be heard singing in the trees. Everything was covered in snow, including the many types of trees around, and it was extremely cold - however this didn't hurt Coriander much, since she had an extremely long pelt. The sun couldn't be seen at all, but its setting made the clouds turn dark gray as it made way for the nighttime. There was a lake, which was rather large and had an island connected by a fallen tree Everything seemed to either be dead, dying, barely surviving, or living perfectly. 

The Twolegs brought Coriander inside some place she had never been in before, nor could she even see due to her position. But it was far warmer in here than it was outside. The Twolegs then put down the cage, and one of them opened the door while saying some odd words Coriander couldn't understand - like the time she had first met Webster and his group of misfits. It took a few awkward movements of her legs before she managed to turn the opposite direction, and head out of the cage.

Outside, it was a rather lofty area, with lots of thin pieces of hay - her mother told her about them before she died, as she was a barn cat once - hanging up above as well as being on the same level as her. A few mice could be seen scurrying around, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but some gray-and-white tom was stalking them. The Twolegs then left with the cage, and Coriander was met by the gray-and-white tom, who was staring at her with dark blue eyes.

"You look like a rather fine mouser," he commented. "What's your name?"

"C-Coriander," the young she-cat stuttered. "What's yours?"

"Smoky. There used to be a cat named Floss who lived here-" he spoke.

But she cut him off. "Let me guess, she died?"

"You figure out things quickly. Anyways, yes, you're right. She was my mate, and she died of greencough. The Twolegs couldn't get rid of it, and she had to be buried with Pip, outside of this here barn." Smoky explained, his tail drooping. "But I'm sure you'll be an excellent replacement for her."

"W-What?!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. He considered her a  _replacement_ for his  _mate_?

"A good mouser, that is," Smoky specified. "Assuming you know how to hunt a mouse - do you?"

"Yes," she confirmed. Her father had taught her a little about hunting before his untimely death. "But I haven't practiced it in a long while, because I was at Catboxplace."

"Catboxplace? You mean, near the cutter?" Smoky asked, voice quivering. "You know what they do at the cutter?"

"...yes," Coriander growled. Benny, in a series of movements and gestures, had to explain to her how he was sent there once. "They make a cat unable to have kits, and more lazier."

"Exactly! But have you gone in there?"

"No...and I'm not planning to, any day."

"Good, because one day, we can have kits."

For a moment Coriander was silent. She saw the tom as a friend already, yes, but she had no plans of having kits with him, or just about anybody. "Uh, yeah, right, kits." she purred oddly, trying to sound convincing enough to him.

"It seems like you don't want any." Smoky seemed to have saw right through her poor attempt at covering it up.

"I don't."

"Well, if you don't want any, that's fine with me. You're no less of a cat for not wanting any, you know."

"Really?"

"Really. I don't care if don't want any or not, you're still a cat with their own decisions. Just like Floss. But she's gone now...."

"She's probably watching over you above. My pa' said that's what they do when you die."

"I'm hoping that's the case. I want to happen to me, and you."

"Why me?"

"You're a cat with a lot of promise, Coriander. I think you're good enough to make it to be with Floss, if your father was right."

"Thanks. Maybe it'll happen with Webster and his friends, too."

"Who the hay are they?"

"They'e some cats I knew. They were my best friends - and Webster was like another father to me. But we got torn away from each other when I was taken to be brought here."

"What a shame. How were they like?"

"Each one of them had some imperfection that made them join the group. They seem somewhat rude, but that's a given, seeing how they get mocked and bullied all the time."

Smoky hung his head, as if he was feeling pity for the cats Coriander had known for so long. But the tortoiseshell noticed that his face of sorrow gave away to a neutral expression again. "Think we can start talking about something more positive?" he asked.

"Sure. See that spot up there?" Coriander moved her head away, directing to a spot where the hay hollowed deeply. "I think it's more comfortable and not as drafty than the one you seem to have over there. Think we can move there?"

"I wouldn't mind it, and seems as if you're right." Smoky agreed.

Together, the two cats headed for that one spot, planning to use it as their new nests. Smoky would have to teach her how to make one, of course, since Coriander had been used to making one all the time.

~~~~

One morning, about five seasons afterwards, Coriander woke up to see Smoky gone. She had rather content times with the gray-and-white tom, and they had become mates during that time. The two were not seen alone often - they were close enough to be together - and they enjoyed each other's company. Not many other cats came in sometimes - sometimes some skinny, short-furred wild cats from a group called WindClan, and bigger cats from the woods passed by, but that was about it.

She looked around for the tom, and found him outside, leading two cats - a cream she-cat and a dark brown tabby tom - to the barn. Curious, she headed to the side of the barn, fur shining in the light, and the cream she-cat commented on something that she couldn't hear quite well. When she bounded up to them, however, her message was more clear:

"Who are you?"

Before Coriander could reply, Smoky introduced her, brushing up his thin pelt beside her long fur. "This is Coriander. She replaced Floss. She's a great mouser!"

_She replaced Floss._ The words stuck into Coriander's head, no matter how hard she tried to get them out. She was reminded of the time she first met Smoky, and couldn't believe he would say such a thing.  _I'm a replacement? Is that what he called_ me?

The cream she-cat seemed to share the same opinion as her. "Replaced Floss? How can any cat  _replace_ Floss?"

The dark tabby with them tried calming her down, and then said his greetings to her. He seemed to be a rather honorable cat, but she couldn't seem to manage to return the act back to him. Coriander noticed that they looked like some of the forest cats she had seen pass by once, and she had to test her assumptions.

"You must be some of those weird cats from the woods. What are you doing here?" she asked, trying not to sound offensive in the slightest.  _I probably did hurt their feelings, though_....she thought to herself in dismay.

"Just visiting," the cream cat said through grit teeth. It was clear that she was furious Smoky had chosen Coriander as another mate.  _Maybe_ she  _was his mate once?_

The cream cat asked something about them watching them go to the island in the lake, and Smoky had to explain how Coriander craved to see the famous cats, so they went to lie in wait. "Great job blowing it," she muttered quietly to herself, glaring at her mate. Smoky then led the two cats inside, Coriander following him.  _What are they planning to do?_

"It's all changed. You used to have your nest over here." pointed out the cream cat.

"I know. But Coriander said it's less drafty over there." Smoky flicked his tail to that hollow in the hay that Coriander pointed out at her first day in the barn. 

Of course, she had to play along with Smoky's little tour. "Yes. It's  _so_ comfortable!"

The cats suddenly seemed to have a change of plans, and chose to leave right now. Smoky was saying his farewell to the forest cats, and Coriander felt that she should join in, too.  _They're just cats, after all. Wouldn't do me any harm in wishing them luck._

With her eyes gleaming, Coriander warned, "Do be careful on your way home. The horses can be quite scary if you're not used to them." In reality, horses had virtually no threat, as she learned early on, but it was always a good idea to be watching out for them.

"I'm fine with horses, thanks." snapped the cream cat, and she left the barn with the dark brown tabby tom.  _What did I ever do to her?_

Once the two were gone, Coriander turned around to face Smoky, her eyes forming a glare at him. "What was that I heard about, 'She replaced Floss?' Are you suggesting that I'm nothing more than another mate to you?" she hissed.

Smoky stayed silent, and the she-cat went on.

"Am I just another cat to you? Another mate, another one you go through in your life? Did you  _lie_ to me?" she questioned, her fur bristling, and ears flattened, showing signs of aggression.

Smoky was now growing more nervous, as he was backing up, eyes widened with fear. "N-no! Not at all!"

Coriander then snapped at the older tom. She could no longer take in anything he would say as truth. After what he had said to Daisy, she had enough from him. "Liar! Why else would you tell that cream cat that, hm? Was she your mate once, too?"

"I cannot lie. She was." he admitted.

"So, you  _are_ lying! I'm just another mate to you, another cat...one you will forget  _AS SOON AS **I** DIE, LIKE_  _ **FLOSS**_!" she snapped, and in an instant, Coriander leaped at Smoky, teeth barred. The tom was clearly terrified, and went out of the way, dodging her move.

"What's wrong with you?! I thought we were mates!" Smoky choked out. 

" _NOT ANYMORE_." Coriander slunk toward him, giving off a menacing smirk, and attempted to use one of the techniques Webster taught her.  _If you're trying to kill your enemy  - which I hope you don't - slash them right in the throat, where their windpipe is. That will make them choke in their own blood._

The tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat then aimed her paws at Smoky's throat, and, unsheathing her claws, pounced and slashed at the gray-and-white loner's throat. She stepped back afterwards, sheathing her claws, so that no more blood could get onto her pelt. Some had already stained the white on her chest and paws when she first hit him, but now Smoky was bleeding heavily. He slumped down onto the floor, blood streaming down from his throat. She felt no remorse for the tom - well, she did, a bit, because she did  _kill_ a cat - but otherwise she could not find any sympathy for the tom who had lied and tricked her all these moons just for his own benefit. 

"C...Co-" Smoky tried to speak, but blood was bubbling at his throat, choking him as tried to speak. A few moments later, the tom lay still, not breathing.

_So, he's dead? Good._ she thought, satisfied.  _I hope he never reaches his mate Floss again...but, I can't just stay here. The Twolegs will know that I did this, so I must leave._

Looking around, all Coriander saw was the hay and Smoky's dead body - which was now in a pool of blood - and decided that she wouldn't be needing anything from the barn.  _None of this serves me any purpose now._

The tortoiseshell-and-white rogue - being more aggressive than a loner granted her the title - left the barn, and noticed that it seemed to be pouring rain at this time.  _Well, at least the blood will get off of me easier. Now, I got to hurry, before I get caught in that flood over there._

Hurriedly, the she-cat began to bound away, toward the tall pine. It was a good trek - about halfway around the lake - and when she reached it, she took a break to think. She knew some rather pathetic looking wild cats from a group called ShadowClan lived here.  _But it's best not to get involved._ she thought.  _They'll question me the moment they see the blood on me._  Keeping this in mind, Coriander continued to run, making sure that she didn't end up running into a Clan cat. They were easy to tell apart, with their funny scents and all. Eventually she managed to reach a tree stump, with some familiar scents over it. 

_Hey! This has Ziggy's scent all over it!_ she thought hopefully.  _Maybe he lives around here!_ _  
_

The she-cat headed through some more dense undergrowth between tree trunks, which were starting to thin out. The bushes were snagging her fur, and her pelt was wet due to all that pouring rain she was in.  _I hope this is all worth it._ But after that one bush, there was an open space with a line of Twoleg fences. Coriander emerged from the space, and noticed the many Twoleg dens beyond them. She noticed a big tree with flowers, and headed over there.

There was a broken fence right next to it, and Coriander went over it. It was a rather neat square of grass behind the den, surrounded by some bushes and flowers. Ziggy's scent was more powerful over here, along with some other foreign scents.  _Maybe this is where he liv-_

Her thoughts were cut off when she noticed a pale brown tabby-and-white tom with blue eyes stalk toward her, with Ziggy - she could not be mistaken - and a black tom behind him.

"Oh, look, a lost kittypet. Delicious," growled the tabby tom. "Let's show her how things work around here."

"But Victor, that's no ordinary cat!" Ziggy complained. "That's Cori!"

"Cori?" Riga and Victor exchanged a confused glance with one another. "Zigs, you  _know_ her?"

"Of course I do!" he spat to his brother. "She's a cat who I used to see at Catboxplace, but she got taken away. It looks like she managed to find us!"

"What do we do with her, then?" Victor glared at the ginger-and-white tom. "Since you  _clearly_ know how things run around here."

"Show her to the others, of course! What else would I do?" Ziggy replied. "She's one of our friends; no way would I  _not_ show the others."

"Very well then." Victor nodded his head. "Anything else?"

"I wish to join you lot," Coriander butted in. "I have no purpose for my old home; I wish to live with you now."

"You aren't serious," Riga denied. "Wait,  _are_ you serious? For real?"

"I'm not kidding," Coriander repeated. "I wish to join you and the others in Twolegplace. This is where I belong - with  _my friends_."

"Well, if you want to meet the others, don't wait - let's go!" Ziggy led the way out of the yard near Victor's Twoleg nest, and all four cats ran along the fence top, looking for any other cats. A familiar voice spoke behind them, and Coriander knew who he was. His scent was particularly overpowering compared to the others.

"Cori."

She turned around, balancing herself awkwardly on the fence, and saw the black-and-white face of Webster. His muzzle was beginning to gray, and his fur was more unkempt than she remembered it.  _It is....!_

"W-Webster? Is that really you?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Well, who else would it be?" he chuckled. "The others are here, too. Except Benny. Rumor has it that he died in this flood near the lake. They found in some rubble, I heard. Poor thing! He didn't deserve to die."

_Why? He didn't do anything wrong...._ Coriander thought bitterly. "Can we leap down now? I'm getting kind of tired, balancing on this here fence."

"I have no qualms about that." Webster responded.

All five cats leaped down the fence, and waited for Scarlet and O'Hara to arrive. They were down by the corner, creeping up toward the other cats.

"I apologize for being late to see _you_ again, my lovely Cori," Scarlet said. "If it weren't for my piss-drinking, kit-eating Twolegs...."

"Scar, it's okay. They understand," O'Hara comforted his sister. He then turned to face Coriander. "It's good to see you again! I never thought this would happen."

"It's like I'm dreaming." Ziggy confessed. 

"Parsnip left when the flood came, too," Webster added, explaining the lack of the cream tabby tom. "He promised he would come back after it's over, though. What is with this weather! First heavy snow, now lots of rain. Goodness."

"Why do you look so dirty?" O'Hara asked. "You could use a good grooming."

"We should take you over to that big Twoleg bucket," Scarlet suggested. "It always has lots of water - if you don't mind getting wet, that is!"

"I don't." Coriander chuckled.  _This feels so great. I've nearly forgotten that I killed Smoky now. Now, let's see if I can get rid of those memories forever._ she thought.

"So," Webster announced. "It looks like we have the return of an old veteran. Everyone, welcome back Madame Coriander!"

"Coriander! Coriander!" the cats around them chanted happily. 

The tortoiseshell-and-white rogue looked up at the black-and-white kittypet. "Father...can I still call you that? I've longed to see you again."

"Of course!" he purred. "It's good to have you around again, Coriander. We have troubles to deal with - and we could use you around more. You may be a stray, but you're just as a good cat as any of us."

"Really?"

"Really."

In that moment, Coriander felt the happiest she had felt since the day she had been brought into Catboxplace, with the other kittypets.  _Hmph...I'll leave what I've done with Smoky in the past...and move on with the future. It's better to stay in the present than to dwell in the past or future._ she planned.  _I will repent for my crimes, I promise, so that I may end up with the good ones once I die. Hopefully...._ _  
_

 

 

 

 


End file.
